Pleasantview: Night & Day
by Knightscastle
Summary: Pleasantview seems like an idyllic suburban town, but beneath the surface boils a cauldron of secrets, scandals, intrigues, and suspicious deaths. This will be a serialized telling of the stories behind the Sims 2 characters and the mysterious town in which they live. Warning: a bit darker than the source material. Rated T for language and sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1: Dustin

Dustin

They were chasing a shooting star.

It appeared just as the sun neared the horizon, a white streak slicing through the pinks and oranges and purples of the evening sky. This was no distant shooting star disintegrating in the atmosphere, but rather a survivor, one that appeared to make landing in the hills near Crystal Springs. One of the four teenagers who witnessed its fall suggested a search, to see what extraterrestrial gift the town of Pleasantview had received from the cosmos.

They rode bicycles, despite the fact that all of them were old enough to drive. Dustin's family ran a struggling bakery, and affording a car seemed out of the question, so he never bothered to get a license. The twins, Angela and Lilith, had licenses, but only one car between them. Their privileges to use it were recently revoked after an argument over which of them would get to use it on date night turned their mother's favorite vase into collateral damage. Dirk had a license and his own car, but a recent fender bender with the cranky old Mrs. Crumplebottom up in the swanky Redwood Parkway district had put his car out of commission. Dirk's father decreed that Dirk would have to earn the money himself for repairs by either getting a job or doing chores for the neighbors, neither of which held great appeal.

And thus they were all relegated to two wheels. Dustin didn't mind. It reminded him of when they were kids, flying down Main Street past all of the little shops and restaurants with the wind in his hair, wheels bouncing over the cobblestone border to the winding road of Pinochle Point, watching the trees grow thicker as they headed up the hills, and finally coasting as the road sloped down toward Crystal Springs. It was nice to have that feeling of being a kid again, back when life was simpler. It was a time before school became more difficult and less friendly, before teachers began regarding him as one of "those kids from Woodland Drive," the delinquents, and regarded him with suspicion before he gave them cause. And because of this he felt obligated to give them cause, to live up to their worst expectations. His grades plummeted, his parents-who were already stressed out trying to raise two children on a tight budget-got angry, and soon there was only one person in his life who really mattered to him-Angela.

They skidded to a halt underneath a broad elm tree that overlooked the lake, which now rippled with pink water under the setting sun. Dustin smiled at Angela, and she smiled back knowingly; this was where he'd first kissed her five years ago, back when their bodies had begun to change, their desires deepening. They were the only two who knew this little secret, and they had sworn to keep it between them, so that this place would always be special.

"Let's start looking here," Dustin said.

"Why are we doing this again?" asked Lilith. She let her bike fall against the tree and planted a hand on her hip, her darkly mascaraed eyes surveying the scene with disdain. "This is stupid."

It was always a marvel to Dustin that the two girls were twins, as they could not have been more different in nature. They shared the same features physically-the same blue eyes, pretty lips, the pale skin and hair the color of copper, the slender feminine bodies. And yet where Angela was soft and light, Lilith was hard and dark. Angela wore a light green summer dress, her hair flowing freely over her shoulders, her face naturally beautiful without any makeup save a subtle lip gloss. Lilith opted for heavy makeup, especially around her eyes and a shockingly dark lipstick. Her hair was pulled back tight, and her wardrobe was almost entirely black and made of leather, save the cotton tank top bearing a skull design. She always wore a frown, while Angela always put on a smile, except, of course, where her sister was concerned. They often did not get along.

"You have something better to do?" Dirk asked with a charming smile. He was the only one who seemed to be able to sway Lilith when she got into one of her moods, which was what made them a good match. He took her hand, his dark skin a sharp contrast against her white, and began pulling her gently toward the woods. "Come on, let's go."

Lilith relented and Dustin watched the two of them disappear into the trees. He wasn't sure if they were actually going to go look for the shooting star, or if they just planned to make out or smoke some weed in the bushes. Either way it didn't matter to him. He was alone with Angela, which was what he really wanted in the first place. He smiled at her and took her hand and they began walking toward the shore of the lake.

"You've been kind of quiet today," said Angela. "I didn't see you at lunch."

"Sorry, I went out to the bleachers on the football field to smoke a cigarette and wound up sitting there for a long time just thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing. My dad. He was on my case last night about my grades. 'You need to get your grades up so you can get into a good college and get a real job.' The usual schtick."

"If it's the usual, then why do you seem so upset about it? Normally you just blow it off."

Dustin was quiet. They had come to a steep incline and he put his arm around Angela's waist to steady her. "Here, let me help you."

"Thanks," she said as they made their way down. "These sandals weren't made for hiking."

They reached the bottom of the incline and pushed through some brush and found themselves on the pebbly shore. Dustin took a moment to take in the serene scene. The sun was nearly gone, shooting rays into the cerulean sky like spotlights behind the silhouetted mountains. The water lapped gently at the shore in a relaxing rhythm. A slight breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. He took a deep breath.

Angela's hand slipped into his. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's just-I said some really shitty things to my dad last night."

"We all say things we don't mean sometimes. You should hear the things I say to Lilith."

"No, this was bad. Like, really bad."

"Tell me."

"You know how you said I always blow it off, the pressure he puts on me. Well, I'd had a really bad day. Miss Song gave me an F on my midterm, so I mouthed off to her about it, so she sent me to see Principal Walter, and he basically called me a loser. And then I got home and I found out Beau had been going through my shit, so I yelled at him, which made my mom yell at me, and it just-it just felt like everyone was coming down on me."

"And then your dad yelled at you too."

"No, my dad didn't yell. He never yells. He just sat me down and told me that he was disappointed. And he had such a fucking sincere look on his face, I just-I just couldn't stand it. Like, I wish he would just yell. Yelling I could ignore. But that tone just made me feel so damn small and I felt like I had to cut him down, too."

"So what did you say?"

"I told him that the only reason he wanted me to get a good job so bad was because he was so damn broke and such a failure that he couldn't support his own family, and he needed his son to the work for him. I called him lazy, I called him pathetic, and I called him a loser. Basically everything the principal had said to me to make me feel shitty, I said to my dad. And guess what, it had the same effect on him that it had on me. I wanted to make him feel small and that's exactly what happened."

Angela put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he knows you didn't really mean it. That you were just pissed."

"I don't think it mattered to him why I was saying it. He got this look on his face like I'd just put words to all of his worst fears, like everything I was saying was what he really did think of himself. I could tell I hit a major nerve."

"What did he say back?"

"Nothing. That's what upsets me the most. He said nothing and just got up from the couch, got in the truck and drove off. He was still out when I went to sleep, and he was gone in the morning when I got up. Honestly, I'm not even sure he came home last night."

"So that's why you wanted to go looking for the shooting star? Not too anxious to go home?"

Dustin shook his head. "He's probably home from work by now. I really don't want to face him."

Angela took his hand. "Come on," she said. "Maybe we can find that shooting star to give him as a peace offering."

Dustin smiled and followed after her as they strolled down the beach hand in hand. It was growing darker and harder to see. They were nearing the pier that jutted out onto the lake where people would often fish from, or launch boats to spend a lazy day enjoying being out on the water. Many times over the years, on hot summer days, Dustin and his friends would dive off of that pier into the cool waters to escape the heat. He was remembering this when he saw the glow at the end of the pier.

"Do you see that?" he said.

Angela's eyes widened as a pretty smile spread across her lips. "Oh my god, we found it! We actually found it! Come on."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him as they ran down the beach, pebbles crunching beneath their feet, until they hit the old creaking wood of the pier. At the end sat a rock, about the size of a baseball, with green veins crisscrossing it and glowing in the deepening darkness. The wood around it had cracked and splintered where it landed, and Dustin wondered that it hadn't broken through.

"Do you think it's safe?" said Angela. "I mean, it could be radioactive or something. Or, like, super hot."

"Only one way to find out," said Dustin.

He approached the rock slowly. He doubted it was dangerous, but he positioned himself between it and Angela, just in case. When it was at his feet, he knelt down and studied its features, the way its iridescent green seemed to ebb like a living thing. He reached down and touched it. It was cold to the touch. Finally, he picked it up.

"Well?" said Angela.

"Well," said Dustin with a shrug. "It's pretty. And I'm not dead, so...score, I guess."

Angela came closer, her face lighting up with the green hues as she approached. "What should we do with it?"

"Don't know. Keep it?"

"Or maybe take it to the science facility?"

"No," said Dustin a little too quickly. The science facility was owned by Landgraab Industries, and there was something about that place, about that whole company that he found unsettling in ways he couldn't quite place. "You were right before. I'll take it home and give it to my dad. Maybe I'll get back on his good side. Maybe he won't think I'm such a fuckup."

"You're not a fuckup," said Angela. She drew closer to him and draped her arms around his neck. "You're the sweetest, smartest, cutest boy I know. And I love you."

"I love you, too."

Their lips met in a soft kiss. His desire for her beckoned for him to do more, to part her lips with his tongue as he had so many times before, but something about this moment felt like it should remain chaste, that it should be a perfect kiss, like an unopened rosebud.

Suddenly Angela pulled away from him, her eyes opened wide. "Oh my god!" she said, her hand flying to her mouth. "There's someone out there in the water."

It had become dark enough that it was difficult to make out, but could just see a body floating face down a few hundred yards away from the end of the dock. Without thinking, he dropped the space rock and pulled off his shoes. "Call 911," he said to Angela just before plunging into the water.

The water was cold, the fall weather dropping its temperature to an uncomfortable low, but he tried to ignore it as he swam toward the body, hoping that he could get there in time to save the man-it looked like a man, but it was hard to tell in the light. The body felt cold when he reached it, but he flipped the man face up and wrapped an arm around him to pull him toward shore. When his feet finally felt rocks beneath them, he grabbed the man underneath his arms and dragged him onto dry land. In the darkness he could barely see the man's features, and he had to feel by hand for the mouth to begin CPR. He was distantly aware of Angela's voice talking frantically on her cell phone to a 911 operator. A green light washed over Dustin and he realized that Angela had picked up the glowing space rock and was using it to illuminate the scene. He heard her gasp.

"Oh my god!" she said. "Oh my god, Dustin!"

There was an edge to her words that he couldn't understand at first, nor why she was looking at the body in such alarm. Then he looked down on the face of the man he was trying to save, and his heart dropped into to pit of his stomach. The man was clearly dead.

It was Dustin's father.


	2. Chapter 2: John

John

Officer John Burb was at the end of his shift and on his way back to the precinct when the call came in—a body found up at Crystal Springs. He didn't have special plans, but his wife, Jennifer, had been on his case lately about spending too much time on the job and not enough with her and their daughter. "Lucy needs to see more of her father," Jennifer would say. "She's starting to forget she has one." It was an exaggeration, John knew, but he had promised nevertheless to be home on time from now on. A dead body, though. That was rare in Pleasantview, and the cop in him wanted to know what was going on.

He looked over at his partner, Nina, and knew she felt the same. She was younger than him, beautiful with an exotic combination of auburn hair, olive skin, and bright green eyes. Half-Arabic, half-Spanish, she'd once described herself. Jennifer had thrown her a jealous glance more than a few times. But Nina was damn serious about being a cop, he knew, and she was a partner he could count on.

She nodded at him and said, "There goes my big date tonight."

John smiled and flipped on the sirens, flooring the accelerator as they raced into the hills.

By the time they arrived, the scene was already awash in red and blue flashing lights, and a spotlight hovering over where the body lay. John and Nina started toward the area when John heard his name being called. He turned and saw his niece, Angela, running toward him.

"Uncle John!" she called, then threw her arms around him. It was clear she'd been crying. "I'm so glad you came."

"What are you doing here?" he said.

She broke the embrace and sniffled. "It's Dustin's dad. He's-he's-"

She didn't have to finish. John followed her gaze toward the body and he knew. Skip Broke was dead. They'd gone to the same university together, drank beers and watched football together, compared notes on marriage and fatherhood. They had been friends.

John looked over Angela's shoulder and saw Dustin, Skip's son, talking to an officer. Behind him John's other niece, Lilith, stood with her boyfriend, that Dreamer kid who was relatively new to town. "Listen," he said to Angela, "Why don't you go wait with your friends. I'm going to go get some more information, and then I'll talk to you in a second, okay?"

Angela sniffled again and nodded, then rejoined her group.

"You going to be okay on this one, with your niece involved?" Nina asked.

"Yeah," said John. "Yeah, I think I definitely need to be involved in this one. Hey, Centowski!" he called to a blonde, long-faced officer standing nearby. "Want to bring me up to date?"

The officer trotted over. "Evening, Lieutenant. Uh..."-he began flipping through his notes- "Vic's name is Skip Broke, age thirty-eight, runs a bakery downtown with his wife, Brandi-"

"Yeah, I know all that already, Centowski. Just tell me what happened."

"Kids went for a stroll by the lake, said they were looking for space rocks or something like that. Ask me, they were just looking for a place to get it on-"

"Those girls are my nieces, officer."

Centowski cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Uh, right, so they went out on the pier, saw the vic in the water and fished him out, tried to resuscitate him, but the vic had already expired."

"Cause of death?"

"Drowning, most like. We're still waiting for the coroner to get out here to confirm, but you ask me, the guy offed himself."

"Suicide?" said Nina.

Centowski nodded. "I mean, we all know the guy was struggling financially. He's got a wife and two kids at home to take care of, his oldest's a juvenile delinquent. I mean, we've all seen him down at the precinct before. The guy probably couldn't take it anymore."

"My dad didn't kill himself!"

John turned and saw Dustin walking fast toward them. He was still a kid, but his body was almost that of a man's with a decent amount of muscle to power the fists he was shaking and looking to punch someone with. John hurried toward him before he added assaulting an officer to his rap sheet. "Hold up, there, Dustin," he said. "Take it easy."

"My dad didn't kill himself," Dustin said again. "He wouldn't have done that to us."

John wanted to say that no one knew what people could be capable of, but he knew that wouldn't help the situation. He could see how angry Dustin was, how it was the spitting image of the time back in college when someone had insulted Brandi, and Skip flew into a rage. It was uncanny, really, how much the son resembled the father, especially in that moment. Nothing John said could calm Skip down back then; it was Brandi who had talked him down.

As if history were repeating itself, Angela appeared at Dustin's side. She touched his arm and it was as if she drained the anger right out of him. John could see the muscles in the boy's arms and shoulders relax. "Come on, Dustin," she said gently, "let's let the police do their work. Uncle John will get to the bottom of this."

Dustin turned and stomped away, plopping down on a flat boulder nearby and raking his hands through his messy blonde hair in agitation. Poor kid, John thought. He must be going through hell.

Angela turned to go join him, but John called her back. "Tell me again how you found the body. Officer Centowski said something about a space rock?"

"Oh..." said Angela, "Yes, we saw a shooting star. It looked like it landed around here...and it did! I have it here."

From a pocket in her skirt she produced a rock, with iridescent green lines that glowed like a nightlight. John's eyes went wide. He'd seen something like that before with the Bella Goth case, when the wealthy socialite vanished one night without a trace. It had been a huge news story-what was it?—ten, eleven years ago now. John was just a rookie at the time, one of his first cases, and, to this day, the biggest of his career. It was still talked about, and still an embarrassment to the department that they had been unable to even come close to solving it. Bella Goth, alive or dead, was still out there somewhere waiting to be found. He hadn't thought about that case in a long time, but looking at that rock brought it all flooding back. He remembered going to the Goth mansion and going to the backyard where Bella had last been seen, and all that had been left was a circle of these glowing rocks. Rumor had it that there'd been some sort of cult activity, and the woman had been sacrificed. Could there be a connection here, with Skip?

"John, what is it?" asked Nina, and John realized he'd been staring at the rock in silence for a long time.

"Nothing, it's just-"

"Hey Lieutenant!" shouted Centowski, who was hovering over Skip's body. "Come take a look at this!"

John approached, followed by Nina. He was distantly aware that Angela and Dustin were following, too, but he was too busy steeling himself against emotion upon seeing his friend's corpse. Skip lied there face up on the pebbles, his skin a grayish blue, his eyes open and opaque, staring at nothing. John dug his nails into his palms. How could Skip do this?

"What is it, Centowski?" said John. "What am I looking at?"

"I know we're supposed to wait for the coroner and all, but I saw this peeking out from under his collar and thought I should take a look."

Centowski used his pen to gently move aside the fabric of Skip's collar. There was an angry red welt there. No, not a welt. John looked closer, then felt the blood drain from his face. It wasn't a welt, but some sort of symbol carved into Skip's flesh.

Dustin was right. This was no suicide. Whatever it was, he felt sure to the marrow of his bones that this was somehow linked to the Bella Goth case.


	3. Chapter 3: Brandi

Brandi's husband, Skip, the love of her life, was dead.

She didn't need the diagnosis of any doctor to tell her what was wrong with her. That was it. That was why she had collapsed. When Nina came by in her police uniform after Skip had been gone for almost a full day, she knew. Before Nina could even open her mouth, Brandi knew. And she lost it. She lost it with little Beau sitting right there in his high chair, eating the peanut butter and jelly she'd just made him for dinner. She lost her mind, and she screamed, and she poured tears, and she pounded the wall, cried out for Skip to come back again, and then she fainted dead away. Of course she did. And yet here she sat in the hospital waiting room with a catheter sticking out of her arm, waiting for the doctor to come out and tell her what she already knew. If Nina hadn't driven her straight here, she never would have come. If Nina wasn't sitting right next to Brandi still, holding her hand, she'd be long gone already.

Dear Nina, who, along with her sister, Dina, had been such good friends to Brandi these last few years. It had been tough on Brandi in this town, who many looked at like she was a harlot for getting pregnant right out of high school, not knowing the whole story—a story she could never tell anyone. Neither Nina, nor Dina, ever treated her as a pariah, however—perhaps because they had dubious reputations of their own. It had been nice to have female friends, when life in a house of boys became too much for her. Now, though, she'd give anything to be back in that house with her boys. But her husband was dead, and Dustin was still with the police.

Beau, sitting in her lap, nestled closer, as if sensing her need. Four years old and being such a trooper. He hadn't even cried yet. How could he when she'd fallen apart? Maybe he didn't fully understand it yet, what had happened, but it felt like he was being strong for her. She ran a hand over his blonde hair, so different from her own black locks. He looked up and smiled at her. So like his father. The thought nearly made her lose it again. But she wouldn't, not with Beau watching. He was just a kid, and she was the parent, and she needed to be the strong one now that she was the only one left.

She really was on her own now, she realized. Her parents had passed away recently, and Skip's parents died long ago. Her children had no grandparents, and now no father. Just a mom. A mom who ran a struggling business, who could barely afford to pay rent on their trailer home, or put food on the table. She was sure if they didn't run a bakery that they all would have starved to death ages ago. Now with Skip gone she'd have to run that bakery alone. She couldn't afford to hire help. If they lost the business, they'd have nothing at all. The worst part was, having nothing at all was better than what would happen if anyone found out what she'd done to get what little they had.

"Are you okay?" Nina said gently.

Brandi realized that she'd been sucking in breath, but forgetting to breathe it out. She let out a long sigh, forced a smile, and said "Yeah, thank you, I'm fine. Everything's going to be okay." The look in Nina's eyes told Brandi she knew she was lying, so she added, "That's what I keep telling myself."

Nina gave Brandi's hand a squeeze. "Dustin will be here just as soon as they're done taking his statement," she said. "That should be some comfort."

Brandi didn't say anything in response, unsure if Dustin would come straight to her side. The truth was, she had no idea how to predict what Dustin would do these days. One minute he was sweet like Beau, the next she found herself wishing he was still small enough to paddle him. Still, today she couldn't really blame him if he acted out. He'd found his father dead. That must be so difficult for him. Suddenly she wished she could take him into her arms. When she next saw him she would, both of her sons. They'd make this family work.

"Mrs. Broke, the doctor will see you now," said a nurse.

"Nina, would you mind…?" Brandi said, nodding toward Beau.

"Not at all. Thats what I'm here for."

As Brandi tried to hand Beau over to Nina, however, he became fussy. "No, Mommy, I want to stay with you."

"Mommy will be right back. Auntie Nina is going to watch you for just a little while."

"No," he said.

He looked so vulnerable that Brandi almost gave in, but then Nina intervened. "Beau, honey, they have cookies in the cafeteria. Would you like me to take you to get you one?"

Beau looked torn, but the promise of sugar won out, and he took Nina's hand.

Brandi fished around in her purse for some money to give to Nina, but only found a couple nickels. It hit on her, then, like a boulder from the sky, that this hospital visit was going to cost a fortune and she couldn't even afford to buy a goddamn cookie for her kid.

"Don't even worry about it," said Nina. "It's on me."

Brandi gave Nina a grateful nod, and then kissed Beau on the top of his head before Nina led him off.

The nurse took Brandi to the same exam room where she'd had blood taken just an hour before. After only a few minutes the doctor appeared.

"Hello, Mrs. Broke," said Dr. Lothario as he entered.

Don Lothario was a tall and strikingly handsome man. His features looked Italian, or possibly Middle Eastern or Latin. It was difficult to tell, maybe a mixture of them all. He had a head of thick black hair that was immaculately styled. Wide black eyebrows arched over his intense green eyes. A shadow of a beard covered his square jaw and strong chin. He wore his lab coat and scrubs, but they only enhanced the frame of his excellent physique. He carried himself with the confidence of someone who knew how good looking he was.

Brandi, however, was not charmed, and she found it difficult to fit in the same room with his obvious ego. "Dr. Lothario, I'm fine, really, and if you'd just discharge me, then I could go home and take care of my sons. They lost their father today, you know."

"I know," he said, "and I'm so sorry, truly, I am. But there's some things we found in your blood work that we need to discuss."

Oh god, Brandi thought. Could she have been wrong? What if there really was something wrong with her? What if it was something serious? She couldn't afford treatment for a serious disease. She'd literally have to die and then her sons would be left without any family at all except for each other. Her stomach seemed to liquify.

"Is it-is it-" Her throat felt dry and the words fought to come out. "Doctor, what is it?"

"You're pregnant."

Brandi barely made it into a chair before her knees buckled. A baby? Terror seized her. She felt like she might faint again.

"No, no, no," she said. "It can't-I can't-" Tears welled in her eyes.

"I know this is a terrible time for you, and this is difficult news for you to hear. But you have options. And, you know, with your husband's passing, maybe you could think of it as a blessing."

All of Brandi's terror and anxiety morphed sharply into anger. She narrowed her eyes at the handsome doctor and said, "Well, I'm glad you feel that way, Don, that it's a blessing, because the fact of the matter is that there's no way this baby could be my husband's. He was sterile, you see. The only man who could possibly be the father of this baby…is you."


	4. Chapter 4: Don

Don

The last day of summer sun beat down on Don as he walked into the pink and white bakery on Custer Blvd. to order a cupcake. Across the street from the bakery stood the "Lost in Love" hedge maze, which Don took to be a good sign since this was to be a special cupcake for a romantic occasion. The time had come to pop the question to his girlfriend, Cassandra, whose birthday was only days away. He'd surprise her with this special cupcake, and when she cut into it, she'd find the engagement ring baked inside. It would only take a few florid words from his romantic repertoire to seal the deal.

Cassandra's father, Mortimer Goth, had insisted they wait until the girl's twenty-fifth birthday before he would approve any engagement. Of course she was a free woman and could have married before then, but not without making herself ineligible to receive her sizable inheritance, one which hinged on Mortimer's approval. Now that the day of riches drew near, Don planned to be ready to lock down the heir to the Goth fortune so he could share in the bounty.

When Don entered the bakery, however, he became distracted, as he often was, by the pretty woman behind the counter. She greeted him with a friendly smile, brushing stray locks of dark fringe from her bright blue eyes in a coquettish manner. He could tell she was well past girlhood, older than himself by a few years at least, but there was something light and giddy about her demeanor that made her seem younger than she probably was. She wore a shapeless baker's apron and had streaks of flour on her arms and cheeks, and yet he found those un-sexy details terribly sexy. He longed to see what was underneath that apron, and what creative things they could do with some flour.

He placed the order for the cupcake, the woman's face falling a bit at hearing it was for a marriage proposal, which was all the encouragement he needed, really, to let her know that he wanted to include _her_ in his order. She resisted at first, as women often seemed obliged to do, but he knew her type—sweet, but terribly horny, and in dire need of the satisfaction she wasn't getting at home with her husband—and he knew exactly which buttons to press to persuade her to surrender herself. Gradually she allowed him to kiss her neck, to run his hands over the mounds of her breasts, and before long they were in the kitchen on the countertops making the cookware rattle. Immediately after, she rushed him out the door, worried that her husband would be back any minute. The perfect way to end an encounter. When he and Cassandra eventually split the cupcake, it was the best he'd ever tasted.

And now, more than a month later, here the baker woman stood before him as his patient, her husband dead, and claiming Don to be the father of her unborn child. Of course. She was alone. Scared. The address on her file suggested she didn't have much money to her name, and not in a good position to support her current family, let alone a new child. Of course she would see a handsome, well-to-do doctor as her meal ticket, their one afternoon in the flour as hitting the jackpot.

It wouldn't be the first time this happened to him; his wild oats were well-sown, and many a woman in the various cities where he'd lived had tried to claim her baby as his. Whether they did it for money, or sometimes obsession, or maybe, just maybe, he'd had a little oopsie with the condom, it didn't really matter. None of them understood that he was too much man to be tied down by just one woman, especially if she had nothing to offer him besides a screaming baby. It wasn't in his nature. He handled them all the same way he now handled Brandi Broke. He let her know that the child was unlikely to be his, that if she was concerned about the financial obligations of having a child, then she might consider terminating the pregnancy, or give it up for adoption should she decide to carry it to term (and he could recommend a number of adoption agencies to her). However, he gently, yet firmly, let her know that if she insisted on claiming him the father, then there would be a long legal battle, one that was sure to cost her more in the end than she had to lose. She left his office angry, but certainly she got the point. He then made arrangements for Brandi Broke to be seen in the future by a different physician.

Don leaned back in his chair after Brandi left and rubbed his temples. Women, while certainly enjoyable, were often more trouble than they were worth. He needed a woman who didn't want to get serious, who just wanted a little fun once in a while, or twice or three times in a while if he felt feisty. That was why he'd started seeing Dina Caliente, the sultry and exotic blonde who lived in the condominium tower next door to his. They were cut from the same cloth, the two of them, both unabashed in their pursuit of carnal pleasures and wealth, and willing to take the path of least resistance to obtain them. Don had nothing to fear from Dina getting too serious. While he had money in his bank account, Dina wanted someone with a fatter wallet than himself for marriage. And that worked out just fine for him. He had a fiancee, after all.

Ah, Cassandra. Sweet, naive Cassandra. He'd known her since she was a gangly tween, back when he was only a teenager himself doing yard work at the Goth mansion for extra cash. In truth, he didn't do it so much for the money, but because Cassandra's mother, Bella Goth, was the sexiest, most beautiful woman he'd ever seen before-or since. She often lounged around the pool in tasteful, yet scintillating swimsuits while he worked. That was before she disappeared, and left fragile and awkward Cassandra behind with her somber old father and creepy little brother. He felt sorry for her, actually. And he knew she liked him. She looked at him the same way he looked at her mother. But then again, most women did. Still, he thought of her from time to time after he left town to make his way elsewhere in the world, wondering what became of her, and if she had grown up to be as beautiful as her mother. Upon returning to Pleasantview, he made it a priority to call her up and ask her on a date.

When he arrived to pick her up, however, he found himself rather disappointed. He could see some of her mother there-the hair color, the complexion, the height-but her father's genes had done her no favors. She lacked any real curves in her figure, her face was rather plain, she wore unflattering glasses, and her attire bordered on morose. Worst of all, she lacked any of the smoldering heat and confidence her mother had had. He supposed it must have been difficult for this little daisy to bloom in the shadow of the stunning cherry tree that had been Bella Goth. Still, he'd almost made an excuse to end the date early, until Cassandra began talking about trips she'd taken, things her father had bought her, and, most importantly, the inheritance she'd be getting when her father died. He realized that she had something to offer him besides sex. And sex, really, he could find anywhere. A girl with a dowry that size was harder to come by.

Of course, he'd had to play it cool ever since, progressing much slower to a physical relationship than he preferred. She was far too virginal and skittish, and he feared his normal prowess would frighten her away. Instead, he took an unusual tack for him, acting the gentleman and allowing her to save herself for marriage. It was frustrating, but the payoff would be worth the wait.

Thinking of Cassandra, he checked his watch. It was getting late and he hadn't yet called her, so he dialed her on his cell. "Hey, baby," he said when she picked up.

"Don! I was just thinking of you!" she said on her end.

"Oh really?" he said in a suggestive tone. She might not be the beauty her mother was, or beautiful at all really, but there was also no need to put a bag over her head, and the idea of bedding her was not unappealing, even if it could only happen over the phone for now.

She, however, being a more naive soul, didn't take the bait…as usual. "I know you wanted to just do a small civil ceremony at the courthouse," she said, "but I was thinking maybe we could have the wedding in the backyard of the mansion. We could set up a beautiful arch over by the big willow tree, and have rows of white chairs for the guests, and then we could have the reception in the mansion. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

Get married next to the creepy family gravestones you keep in your backyard for some reason, and then have the reception downstairs where I used to lust after your mother? thought Don. He wasn't sure if that all sounded disturbing or exciting. "Would your father approve of that?"

"I'm sure Daddy will be on board with whatever I want."

That's what Don was counting on. "Anything for you, sweetheart. I just want to make you happy."

Cassandra cooed on the other line. "When am I going to see you again?"

"Soon, baby. Work has been crazy is all."

"I miss you!"

"I miss you, too."

They said their goodbyes and Don clicked off the phone. He was tired and stressed and needed release. Maybe he could track down one of the nurses he'd taken to the broom closet last week. He got up, double checked for condoms in his pocket, and went out to take a stroll through the hospital corridors. Unfortunately, he couldn't find one of the naughty nurses, but then he spotted something even better-Nina Caliente, Dina's sister. She was dressed in her officer's uniform-which somehow managed to hug all of her curves just right-so she was obviously still on duty. He'd never made it with an on-duty cop before.

"Well, hello there," he said, approaching her with his most disarming smile. "What brings you here? Nothing wrong with you, I hope. Nothing wrong I can see from here anyway."

Nina rolled her eyes. She was a little smarter than he preferred, but he knew from past experience that she could be persuaded. "I brought a friend in, but she's fine now, I think," said Nina. "She's been discharged, anyway, and went home. Which is exactly where I'm heading."

She turned to go, but Don caught her arm. "Don't rush off. I thought maybe we could go grab a coffee at the cafeteria. Talk a little. I haven't seen you in a while."

"No, not since you started dating my sister."

"I'm not dating your sister. We're sleeping together. It's just sex."

"That makes it better?"

"Dina and I aren't exclusive. You and I don't have to be either."

"No, but you're _supposed_ to be exclusive with your fiancee. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you."

"Cassandra Goth is a lucky girl." Nina made no attempt to conceal her sarcasm.

Don didn't let it faze him. "She hasn't gotten lucky yet, if you know what I mean. And I'm not currently wearing a ring."

"You're a pig."

"Maybe. But I think you kind of like it. I also think you've probably had a long day and could use a little unwinding." She didn't say anything, so he knew he was getting to her. "Just imagine how good it would feel...if I did that thing...you know..that you liked so much that time in the hot tub on my rooftop..." He moved closer to her for maximum effect.

"Fine," she said, putting a hand against his chest and pushing him to a more comfortable distance. "We can go to the cafeteria for coffee and talk. _Just_ talk."

But on the way to the cafeteria they found that broom closet and never made it to coffee.


	5. Chapter 5: Lilith

Lilith

Lilith knew it was going to look bad pulling up in the back of a police car. This wasn't her first time, after all. In fact, police cruisers had become sort of a personal taxi cab for her, running her home after being caught breaking curfew, out drinking with Dirk or Dustin, performing acts of random vandalism, kicking over garbage cans, setting up booby traps, or whatever other kinds of trouble they could come up with in order to pass the time. Once she'd been caught shoplifting; that was the worst one, the one where she actually had to go to court and got sentenced to community service and probation. Her parents figured it would teach her a lesson, that it would straighten her out. They were wrong. The more they came down on her, the more they showed how much they favored Angela over her, it only made her want to escalate her actions, to prove she wasn't Angela and never would be. She wouldn't stop acting out until they started seeing her as Lilith and not _not_ -Angela.

The actual Angela sat next to her in the back of the cruiser, looking nervous. Pathetic, really. Here she wasn't even in trouble with the law, and yet she sat there fidgeting and sweating like a death row inmate.

Angela caught Lilith giving her the side-eye. She must have misinterpreted the thoughts behind it because she reached a hand out and put it over Lilith's, saying, in a laughably serious tone, "Everything's going to be fine. Uncle John will explain everything to Mom and Dad."

Lilith scoffed. She knew she wouldn't be in any trouble, not once Uncle John told her parents he was just giving them a ride home after giving statements to the police about a crime they'd had nothing to do with. Angela, on the other hand, would be forced to admit she was out with Dustin Broke, a boy of whom their father vehemently disapproved. "Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?" Lilith said with a sly smile.

Angela drew her hand away, giving Lilith a wounded look. She turned away to look out the window to watch Daniel and Mary Sue Pleasant emerge through the front door looking none too happy.

Daniel was dressed in an old Llamas T-shirt and sweatpants, his usual nighttime attire. As coach of the team, he wore their logo every chance he got, even when only his family could see it. Although he was in his mid-fifties, Daniel was still a fit man, bulky of frame, and imposing when he wanted to be. His red hair had gone only slightly white at the temples, with more laced through his beard. The color of his face, however, even in the dark, looked to be a similar color to his hair, growing redder by the second. Lilith knew that hue. Her father wanted to control his daughters, Lilith thought, wanted them to be perfect little angels (he'd literally put the word "angel" in one of their names, for God's sakes). But Lilith had never been an angel, that was for sure. As for Angela, well, she looked like she was about to take a tumble from heaven by consorting with a boy who hailed from a much warmer location on the celestial map.

Behind him, Mary Sue came dressed in a kimono-style robe, her black hair pulled back into a tight bun, even right before bed. Lilith couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her mother with her hair down. It was tightly wound at all times, a trademark that matched her personality. She wanted her daughters to be angels as well, but for different reasons than their father. She could care less about their virtue behind closed doors, but Mary Sue had her sights on running for mayor of Pleasantview one day, and they needed to retain an immaculate facade of the perfect family as far as the public was concerned. Showing up in the back of a police car for all the neighbors to see, whatever the reason, would be simply unacceptable.

Uncle John got out of the car and went to meet Daniel halfway up the walk. Lilith couldn't hear what exactly was being said, just angry murmurings, so she decided to get out of the car in order to better enjoy the show. She had one leg out already when she noticed Angela just sitting there, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her gaze now focused straight ahead instead of on the scene outside the car.

"You coming?" said Lilith.

"In a minute," Angela replied quietly.

Lilith tsked and slammed the door, leaving Angela to have her little breakdown, or whatever was going on, in peace. She walked toward the trio of adults, her father giving her a hard look over Uncle John's shoulder. He'd stopped yelling, at least. "Get inside. Your mother and I will talk to you in a minute."

She looked to Uncle John who gave her a supportive look, as if to say, hey, I tried my best, but you're still up shit creek. She smiled back. Uncle John was cool, even if he was a cop.

She walked inside their house, a two-story Tudor that spanned about five thousand square feet, way more than a family of four needed in Lilith's opinion. In two years she'd be eighteen and out of there, and Angela probably off to college. With only two people in the house, her parents might never see each other again. Which they might be fine with actually, Lilith thought. She'd never seen them show each other much affection, and often wondered why they stayed married, except to keep up appearances.

Keeping up appearances seemed to be the theme of the family. Everything in the house had its place, kept in perfect order, from the designer furniture, to the classical paintings on the wall, to the wainscoting like an interior perimeter fence, to the grand piano that no one ever played, but made it look like someone in the family had talent. Lilith perpetually fought the urge to just trash the house, to let it reflect the discord that really lurked beneath the pristine surface of the family. She plopped down on one of the couches in the sitting room and looked at the lamp placed oh-so-carefully on the side table next to her. Just one little push and the destruction could begin.

Lilith felt her hand moving toward that lamp but stopped herself when her parents entered the sitting room. Angela marched in front of them looking sullen, her head down, white arms folded under her breasts. She sat down on the opposite end of the couch from Lilith, while their parents took the chairs opposite them.

"We are very disappointed in you girls," said Mary Sue.

Lilith shook her head. "Are you kidding me? We didn't do anything wrong. We discovered a murder victim. We're goddamn heroes."

"Language, Lilith," said Mary Sue, pinching her sinuses as if it hurt her head to hear her daughter's voice.

"Angela, you know you're not supposed to see that Broke boy," said Daniel.

"Dustin, Dad," said Angela, showing a little fire. "His name's Dustin."

"His name's 'Loser' as far as I'm concerned, and I don't want you having anything to do with him. He's a criminal and a bad influence. Do you think it's a coincidence that you just happen to come across a dead body tonight, and it just happens to be that boy's father?"

"What are you saying? You think Dustin did it?" Angela said. She clenched her fists in outrage.

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't doubt he has it in him. But even if he had nothing to do with it, trouble seems to find him. I don't want you caught up with that."

"Really, Angela," said Mary Sue, "our family just can't be caught up in these things. A murder investigation? Honey, can you imagine how bad that will look?"

"I hope you said your goodbyes to him tonight," said Daniel, "because it's the last time you'll see him."

Angela jumped to her feet, and Lilith watched excitedly, hoping to see if her sister had any backbone, to tell their parents to go fuck themselves, that Dad couldn't stop her from seeing Dustin if she wanted. Instead, Angela just pursed her lips and gave a petulant glare, then stormed out of the room and disappeared up the stairs, no doubt to cry into her pillow. Such a disappointment, Lilith thought. Guess Dustin had better start looking for a new girlfriend because Daddy's Little Girl was going to do exactly as she was told.

"And you-" said Daniel ominously to Lilith, once Angela had completed her pouty exit.

"Me what?" said Lilith. "Like I said before, I didn't do anything wrong."

"Don't think we don't know that you orchestrated this whole thing," said Daniel.

"What now you think I murdered Mr. Broke?" said Lilith.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Mary Sue. "We mean you orchestrated this little tryst between Angela and that boy."

Lilith stared at them in disbelief. So much for not being in trouble. She should have known that no matter what, the parentals would find a way to make this her fault, rather than besmirch Saint Angela's vestal reputation. "This may surprise you, but those two actually have minds of their own," said Lilith. "The whole thing was Dustin's idea, actually. Dirk and I were just along for the ride."

"And whose fault is it that Angela knows Dustin in the first place?" said Daniel. "You're the one who started hanging out with that little punk. You're the one who introduced them. You're the one who's trying to corrupt your sister and bring her down to your level."

"Daniel," said Mary Sue, raising a hand to calm him, "let's not get too harsh. Honey, we know you're not a bad person, but you try very hard to act like one. We need you to start trying harder to clean up your act. For the family's sake."

Lilith just shook her head, laughing in a mirthful tone. "It doesn't matter what I say right now. If I say I'll be a good girl from now on, it will be a lie because that's not me. I'm not who you want me to be, and I couldn't be her even if I tried. But, if I say that, if I tell you the truth, you won't accept it. So there's nothing really left to say, is there? Let's just be honest with each other and admit that we're all just counting down the minutes until I'm eighteen and I can get the hell out of here, and you can have me out of your hair."

"It doesn't have to be that way," said Mary Sue. She looked tired.

Daniel, on the other hand, was turning red again. "You're grounded," he said. "Cell phone, please."

Lilith rolled her eyes and placed her phone into her father's waiting hand. It was either that or wrestle him for it, and she knew how to pick her battles.

"You can go to your room now and stick pins in your voodoo dolls of us, or whatever rituals you do up there in that cave," said Daniel, "but on your way let your sister know that she's grounded, too."

Lilith knew that arguing would be pointless, and she was above making a petulant exit like Angela's. Instead she stood calmly, gave her hair a flip, and walked up the stairs at a casual pace. She stopped by Angela's room and found her sister, sure enough, curled into the fetal position on top of her frilly pink comforter.

"We're grounded," Lilith said flatly.

Angela didn't respond, so Lilith left her to pout it out. She went to her own room, the one sanctuary in this hell hole. It was the only place she could decorate as she wanted, with red walls, black carpet and bedspread, heavy metal band posters on the walls, her skulls and crystals on the dressers. Half of the stuff she kept just so she could see her mother's frown every time she poked her head in the room (she never stepped all the way in, as if she might lose her lily white soul if she did). Lilith plopped down on her bed and picked up the telephone. Her parents must think her generation had no idea how to use a land line.

"Hey," she said when Dirk picked up. "Wanna sneak out?"


	6. Chapter 6: Nina

Nina

Nina shouldn't have done it. She knew it was wrong, that Don Lothario would bring her nothing but trouble. But when he urged her to join him in that closet, his breath hot in her ear, his muscular body pressing against her, those skilled hands running down the curve of her back-hell, she'd had a long day and she deserved to have a little fun, even if it was with an engaged man who also happened to be sleeping with her sister.

She slapped a hand against her forehead as she thought that last thought. It really was as bad as it sounded. But she couldn't take it back now. Anyway, it wasn't the first time she'd slept with a man involved with her sister.

Nina pulled into her spot in the parking garage and, as she made her way to the elevator, tried to find something to take her thoughts away from Don. Instead, she focused on the Skip Broke case, scanning her memory of the scene for fresh insight. She kept coming back to the symbol on his neck, which looked like it had been branded into his skin. A square with a triangle inside of it. She had no idea what it meant, and yet there was something familiar about it, something tugging at the edge of her memory. Seeing it branded into Skip's skin gave her chills in a way that seemed something more than normal revulsion. Maybe she should stick with thinking about Don and Dina.

The elevator stopped at the lobby, and, as if summoned by her thoughts, the elevator doors slid open to reveal her sister. Framed by the doors and perfectly lit by the lobby's chandeliers, Dina looked like a magazine photo come to life. Nina knew that she, herself, was a sexy woman, but paled in comparison to her sister's beauty. Dina had always been just a notch above. A little taller, a little thinner, a little more tan, her breasts a little bigger, her ass a little smaller. She was more fashionable as well, currently displaying a sexy black dress and expensive designer shoes. Her platinum hair fell over her tan shoulders. It was a dye job, sure, but then so was Nina's red. Nina found herself wondering for a moment if she hadn't had sex with Don in an unwitting attempt to level the playing field with her sister.

Dina stepped in the elevator. "I had an idea," she said, skipping over any salutations as she always did. Dina was not one for the "how are you's" or the "how was your day's" as it took time away from her favorite topic of conversation, which was generally herself or whatever she happened to be interested in at that moment.

"Dare I ask?"

"We should throw a party."

This wasn't a new idea exactly. They'd been talking about having a party there ever since they bought their place, or rather since Dina bought their place with her late husband's money. But there had always been some reason not to, usually coming from Nina. She liked to party, true, but hosting seemed like so much work. She'd rather just go to a bar or nightclub, let men buy her drinks, get drunk and dance, maybe go home with somebody if the vibe felt right, and then be ready for work the next day. Hosting a party was a whole other undertaking.

"You look like you just came from a party," said Nina, deflecting.

"I did. I went to that party at the Alto's. Remember?"

Nina frowned. The Altos were one of the wealthiest families in town, second only to the Landgraabs, and there were several organized crime investigations under way back at the precinct trying to prove the Altos had not come across that wealth through legal means. Nina didn't like Dina rubbing elbows with that crowd, but Dina was still on all of the society guest lists from her days of being Mrs. Michael Bachelor.

Though Nina hadn't said a word, Dina obviously recognized the tone of the silence. "Someone's in a mood tonight."

Nina measured her response. 'Don't hang out with the Altos' would just end in an argument, and 'I fucked your boyfriend' would end even worse, so Nina selected the least volatile explanation, and yet the most tragic. "Skip Broke was found murdered."

Dina's mouth fell open just as the elevator dinged to announce their arrival at the top floor. It would have been comical if not for the seriousness of the topic. "What—he's—how?" came Dina's stuttered response.

The sisters stepped out of the elevator. "It's an ongoing investigation. I can't really talk about it." Normally Nina might have shared a little more with Dina, but the thing with the symbol had her spooked and she wasn't ready to explain it. "All I can say is it looks like foul play."

"Poor Brandi," said Dina. "Have you talked to her?"

"I was the one who had to break the n—"

Nina stopped in her tracks and held out her arm to keep Dina from advancing. Dina gave her a questioning look, and Nina nodded toward their front door. It was open a crack.

"Did you forget to close the door when you left?" said Nina.

Dina shook her head.

Nina pulled her gun free of its holster and moved to the door, nudging it open with her elbow. The condo was dark, but the light from the hallway fell across an overturned table, a broken lamp, some scattered contents of a drawer. There'd definitely been a break-in. Nina motioned for Dina to stay put in the hallway before moving further inside.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, Nina found the living area in shambles. The sofa had been torn up, every drawer gone through, bookshelves toppled. She found the kitchen in similar disarray, and when she made her way up to the second level it was more of the same. She checked anywhere an intruder might be hiding, even the hot tub on the balcony, but whoever had done this to their place was long gone.

"Anything?" said Dina, who was waiting for Nina at the bottom of the stairs.

"Nobody here," said Nina, "but they left a hell of a mess."

"What did they take?"

"I can't tell. We'll have to do an inventory," said Nina. It was true, that at that moment it would be impossible to determine what, if anything had been taken, but she didn't share with her sister that this kind of thorough destruction meant more than a basic robbery. Either someone had a beef against them and wanted to vandalize their home, or they were looking for something, something specific. "We should call the police, have them send an investigative team."

Nina made the call while Dina waited in the hallway. She got Centowski and told him the situation, but held something back from him. It was just too soon to put voice to her suspicions that this had something to do with the Skip Broke case. She told herself that she was just being paranoid, that Skip's murder in combination with the break-in had her grasping at straws. But she'd developed a good instinct in her time as a cop, and her instinct told her not to completely dismiss the idea. After hanging up with Centowski she rejoined Dina in the hall to wait for the police to arrive.

"So about that party," said Dina.

"Are you serious? We just got broken into. Our place is a disaster and you're still thinking about throwing a party?"

"Well, I mean obviously not right now, but our place isn't going to be broken into forever. We'll clean up, buy some awesome new furniture, and, you know, wait an appropriate amount of time after Skip's funeral. I mean, we wouldn't want Brandi to think we're insensitive."

"No, we wouldn't want her to _think_ that."

Dina ignored the dig. "But, I mean, what's the best way of getting over some shitty times? Have some fun, right?"

"I don't know."

Dina grabbed her hand. "Come on," she pleaded. "It's high time we broke this place in. We could invite our neighbors, we could invite our friends, or people we want to be our friends..."

Nina eyed her suspiciously. "There's someone you have in mind, isn't there? Someone specific. And it's not Don."

Dina smiled enigmatically. "Maybe."

"Out with it."

"Mortimer Goth," she said, crossing her hands over her heart as if feeling faint.

"Mort-but he's-he's, like...old. I mean, _really_ old, even for you."

"And rich," said Dina, with a smile that bordered on cunning. "We've got new designer furniture to pay for, after all."

Part of Nina wanted to scold her sister for being so superficial, but then she'd just slept with Don Lothario, so who was she to judge? "I take it you have a plan to seduce him?"

"Agree to the party, and you'll see."

"I'll agree to the party if I don't have to see."

Dina jumped up and clapped her hands. "You won't regret this. It'll be the party of the century."

"I'd settle for a good time that doesn't cause any more damage, or ends in serious injury or with any of my co-workers being called over to break it up."

"I make no promises," said Dina with a wink. "By the way, is there anyone special you want to invite? Hmmm?"

Nina thought about it. Don, of course, came to mind, but the idea repulsed her for so many reasons. He was a great lay, but she couldn't stand him, really. She sighed, knowing there was really only one guy she wanted to be there. Only one guy she really wanted, period, though she'd been trying for some time to deny it to herself.

"Maybe I'll just invite my partner," she said. "You know…John Burb."


	7. Chapter 7: John

John

It was just past midnight when John arrived home. He'd never intended to come back so late, but after dropping off Angela and Lilith at the in-laws' house, he'd felt compelled to return to the station to write his report on the Skip Broke case while it was all still fresh in his mind. When he finished the report, however, he began filling out the forms to requesition the evidence from the Bella Goth case, and doing some online research of his own. As the hour drew later, he felt the mounting dread of facing the wife at home growing angrier by the minute. Compulsion became equal parts procrastination, until he finally had no choice but to return home.

John crept in through the front door, stepping softly over the hardwood floor to keep from waking anyone. The Burb house was an unimpressive two bedroom, one bath Craftsman style home that Jennifer had never really liked. It had suited their purposes as a young couple, but the addition of a child quickly made the space feel cramped. Jennifer tried not to complain about it too much, but John knew it grated on her, as many things seemed to these days, and he longed to buy them a bigger home. However, his single income had proven inadequate to cover more than the day to day expenses, let alone save for the future. It was yet another shortcoming he brought to the mix.

John felt his spirits lifted, however, when he looked in on little Lucy, sound asleep in her bed. She had somehow managed to kick half of her blankets to the floor, and one leg draped over the side of the bed. John smiled. If he'd done nothing else right over the course of his marriage, at least he'd created this beautiful little girl. He gently rolled her over so that all of her limbs rested comfortably in the bed, and then pulled the blankets back over her body until they touched her chin. Her eyes fluttered a little, as if she might wake, but then she let out a long sigh as slumber regained its hold.

"Love you, Goosey," John whispered and kissed her forehead.

In his own bedroom, John found a less tender scene. Jennifer sat up in bed, pillows tucked behind her to prop her up, as she studied what he presumed to be research. She'd gone to school to be a reporter, but turned her back on promising career leads when she married John and later became pregnant with Lucy. Now, nine years later, she'd decided to try to pick up where she left off, and had started a blog to get back in the game. John was proud of her for pursuing her dream, but at the same time felt she resented him for having to give it up in the first place. It was yet another wedge in their marriage driving them apart. She wore her reading glasses, which glinted in the light of the lamp next to the bed, and her wavy black hair was down, cascading around her pretty face and terminating just short of her shoulders.

"I'm sorry I'm late," said John. It was an inadequate apology, he knew, but it seemed a good place to test the waters of how much trouble he was actually in.

Jennifer looked up at him without a word or any change in her expression, then went back to reading, or at least pretended to.

Big trouble, thought John.

Rather than plead his case, John decided to let her stew a bit while he got ready for bed. He went to the bathroom and peeled off his clothes, then surrendered himself to an overly hot shower. As the water washed over him, he tried not to think about his angry wife, but rather about the case, allowing his mind to drift back eleven years to the night he and his old partner went to the Goth mansion to investigate Bella Goth's disappearance, trying to remember any details he might have dismissed at the time, but which might now be relevant.

It had been a balmy summer night, he recalled, when he and Kauker responded to reports of strange flashing lights, possibly a lightning storm, near the Goth mansion. By the time they arrived, they saw no lights, or anything amiss. Kauker had thought it a crank call, but John-who was just graduated from rookie status and still anxious to prove himself-said they ought to at least knock on the door. Both officers were a little surprised when Mortimer himself answered, rather than a member of the household staff. When John asked if everyone in the house was okay, Mortimer told them that the kids were staying at a relative's house because his wife had just left him and he needed time to be alone with that fact. John asked about the lights, but Mortimer claimed he had no idea to what the neighbors might be referring. Kauker apologized for bothering him so late, and Mortimer closed the door just short of slamming it in their faces.

"He seemed bothered," said John as they walked back to the squad car.

"His wife just left him," said Kauker. "Of course he's bothered."

"No, there was something else. He definitely wasn't telling us the whole story."

Kauker shrugged. "You think we should track down Bella Goth?"

John said he did as they pulled away from the curb. He looked back at the mansion, unable to shake the feeling that something was very off. "Pull over a second, will you?" he said.

"What are you going to do?"

"Just wait here. No sense both of us getting busted. I just want to take a peek."

Before Kauker could object, John hopped out of the car and ran around the back of the mansion. The yard was obscured by a brick wall and a barrier of hedges, so he had to scale the wall, the branches and thorns of the hedges scratching at his skin as he climbed. He finally made it to the top and peeked over, his breath catching at what he saw.

The back yard of the mansion was filled with depressed willow trees, the largest overlooking a small fenced-in graveyard. Close to the house was a large pool. In the grassy space between the pool and the graveyard was a circle of stones that glowed eerily in the night, casting a green pallor over the scene. Steam or smoke rose from the center of the circle, and the grass there was blackened. John nearly fell off the wall as he scrambled back down.

"There's definitely something weird going on there," he reported to Kauker when he got back to the car. We should get a warrant."

"Why? What did you see?" John described the scene, to which Kauker said, "So did you see a body?"

"No."

"Blood?"

"No."

"Evidence of a crime? Any of the graves look fresh? Any drag marks from a body being moved?"

John had to admit that the answer to all of those questions was no.

"Well we can't get a warrant on the guy because he has a funny rock garden," said Kauker.

"Fine," said John, "but I think we ought to at least look into Bella, make sure she's okay, because something sure as hell isn't right with this."

In the weeks that followed, John did just that. Bella didn't respond to any phone calls or emails. He interviewed the Goths' neighbors, but none of them had seen her, though they did report hearing some screaming and arguing a week or so before she was last seen, and some strange vans coming and going from the estate. He re-interviewed Mortimer, who maintained that Bella had left him, but eventually was forced to file a missing persons report, which at least gave John an excuse to get back inside the mansion. However, a cursory search revealed no circle of stones, or even a blackened patch of grass. Whatever he had seen that night had been thoroughly removed as if it had never existed. Eventually, the chief ordered John to stop looking, that there were other cases that needed solving, ones that weren't cold, and the disappearance of Bella Goth remained an unsolved mystery. Eventually Kauker retired, and Nina became John's new partner. The distraction of new cases eventually made Bella's case fade from his focus, and he'd almost forgotten about it.

Until tonight when he saw that stone, so similar to the ones he'd seen at the Goth mansion so many years ago.

John got out of the shower and toweled himself off. Under different circumstances he might have considered returning to bed as he was, hoping for a little romantic distraction with his wife. But he knew that wouldn't be in the offering tonight, so he donned boxer shorts and an old T-shirt and went back into the bedroom. Jennifer seemed not to have moved. John crawled into bed, facing away from her.

"I'm sorry for being late," he said again.

There was a long silence, but then Jennifer finally said, "I made a nice dinner. I'll pack some leftovers for your lunch tomorrow. Oh, and by the way, Lucy made it all the way through her routine tonight for her dance recital. She was so happy, you should have seen it. I guess you'll see it at the actual recital. If you can make it, that is."

John endured the barbs, still not looking over at his wife. Finally, after a bit of silence, he said, "Skip Broke died tonight. I think he was murdered."

There came a slight gasp from Jennifer's side of the bed, then silence. After a few moments, he heard her put away her book and the light clicked off. He felt her arm reach around his waist as she snuggled against him and nestled her head against the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry," she said.

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the chilly treatment, or expressing condolences for his friend's death, but at that moment he didn't really care. He laced his fingers through hers and took comfort in the warmth of her body as he drifted off to a fitful sleep.


	8. Chapter 8: Lilith

Lilith

On the cliffs of Redwood Parkway, overlooking the ocean, rested an undeveloped lot—a little forested oasis amongst the multi-million dollar homes of Pleasantview's richest neighborhood. It was Lilith and Dirk's favorite rendezvous spot when meeting after hours because it served the dual purpose of being a romantic location, and hidden away from any police cruisers looking to bust teenagers running around after curfew.

Lilith leaned her bicycle against a tree when she arrived. No sign of Dirk yet. Normally they would have driven here, but after Dirk's fender bender with Mrs. Crumplebottom on these very roads, they were forced to ride bikes to their meeting place. Lilith felt a little sweaty from the exertion of pedaling uphill, but she was glad for it. It was a chilly night and although she wore a jacket, her skirt did little to prevent the cold air from sending a chill up her bare legs. It hadn't occurred to her until she'd already sneaked outside that she should have dressed warmer, but by then it was too late. Sneaking back in to change would have been far too risky. Dirk could warm her up when he arrived.

There was a fallen log near the edge of the cliff where Lilith took a seat. Below her the ocean rolled into Pleasantview's cove, but it was a calm night and the waves barely made a sound. It was quiet. A little too quiet. She thought of Dustin's dad's body and how Uncle John seemed to think it was murder. Not that he'd discussed it directly with her, but she'd overheard enough to know he thought the death was suspicious. That meant there was a killer on the loose in Pleasantview. And here she was, a teenage girl in the woods at night. Alone. Suddenly sneaking out didn't seem like such a bright idea.

A breeze picked up and rustled through the dying autumn leaves. Tree branches clicked against each other. Something scuttled through the underbrush. Lilith pulled her jacket tighter around her arms to ward off both the cold and the mounting paranoia overtaking her bravado.

"Jesus, Lilith, it's just the wind," she muttered to herself. Though she wished Dirk would hurry up and get here already.

Dirk. She focused on him to keep her thoughts occupied. Sometimes she marveled at the idea that they were a couple, as it had been such a roundabout pairing. Back in junior high, long before Dirk ever moved to town, Lilith had always thought it would be her and Dustin who would wind up together. The two of them had been close friends, cut from the same cloth, rough housing and getting themselves into trouble, being a general bane on the existence of the adults around them. Angela was too goody-good for them, keeping to her snobbish clique, and Lilith had Dustin all to herself. Somehow, though, their relationship never quite graduated to a romantic one. Not that Lilith had minded, thinking there was plenty of time for it to develop into that, never suspecting that her days of being close to Dustin, romantically or otherwise, were numbered. At some point last year, Dustin and Angela began spending time together. Lilith had no idea, and furthermore could not fathom, what had brought them together, and yet one day there they were, best friend and identical sister kissing and walking hand in hand. Dustin, who she'd thought the world of, turned out to be just one more person in her life who preferred perfect Angela over herself.

To make matters worse, her parents freaked out over the match. They'd never seemed to care when Lilith hung out with that "no good Broke kid," but as soon as it was precious Angela, suddenly it was like the emergency broadcast system blaring nonstop through the Pleasant household. While Lilith took a certain pleasure in seeing Angela a bit tainted in their parents' eyes, it bothered her that Angela had managed to get under their skin worse than Lilith ever had. She had to find a way to one-up her sister.

Around that time, Dirk and his father Darren moved to town, though she wouldn't find out until later that it was because his mother had passed away and they were looking for a new start. All she saw at first was a dangerously attractive dark-skinned boy incarcerated in remedial classes, a sure-fire recipe to make her parents freak. She pursued him rather brazenly, and before long she was able to present him to her parents as her first boyfriend. Tragically, it turned out that her parents quite liked Dirk. They weren't the racists she'd pegged them for, so his skin color was a non-issue, and his attractiveness only added to his charm in their eyes, rather than fearing him as a mad sperm-machine looking to pump their daughter full of baby-making juice. His grades, it seemed, had only slipped due to his grief over his mother's passing, earning him sympathy, which then transformed into admiration when he worked hard and brought his grades up to a level that rivaled Angela's. Lilith suspected that if the plot to oust Dustin as Angela's boyfriend ever succeeded, Dad would be looking at Dirk to fill the role. If that happened, though, Lilith was sure as hell going to put up a fight because there was no way she'd lose yet another boy to Angela.

She heard twigs snapping behind her. There was definitely someone approaching. She was relieved, however, when she saw it was Dirk emerging from the foliage. He wore a fleece-lined jacket over a zip-up hoodie, and fashionably worn blue jeans, a much better choice of attire than she'd made for herself. His black hair was straight and fine, which, along with his pale blue eyes against his deep brown skin, made his exact ethnicity impossible to pin down. Once, when Lilith had asked him about it, he just described himself as a "mixed-bag." He flashed her a smile as he took a seat on the log beside her and gave her a quick kiss.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she said back.

They sat there a moment in silence, riding the wave of awkwardness that always seemed to initiate their dates. Finally, Lilith jumped to her feet. "So what should we do? I was thinking we could walk down to the beach, maybe dig some pits for the richies to fall into on their morning jogs."

Dirk shrugged. She noticed for the first time that some sort of ennui lurked in his demeanor.

"What's wrong?" she said.

"Do you really think playing pranks is the best thing to do right now?" said Dirk. "I mean, our friend just lost his dad. I kind of thought, when you called me out here, that maybe you wanted to talk about it or something."

Lilith tried to contain her annoyance. She called him because she wanted to do anything _but_ talk about anyone's families. She wanted to escape all that and just enjoy the Lilith and Dirk alone time. But she could see the weight of the day's events crushing down on Dirk, so she said, "It seems like you're the one who wants to talk about it."

"Well, I know what it's like to lose a parent, you know? This just brings a lot of that back."

Lilith sat back down next to Dirk and rubbed his back. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't think of it like that."

"I mean, I'm fine. Really. I've had over a year to deal with it. But this is all new to Dustin. I just hope he's doing okay."

"He's tough, believe me. He'll find a way to cope."

"It's just, you know, he and I aren't that tight, but he's going to need a support system. He's got Angela, but I think—I think he's really going to need you, too. I mean, you guys are really close, right?"

Used to be, thought Lilith, but instead she said, "I'll talk to him. I will."

Dirk nodded. "Good."

A few more moments of silence passed between them until it drove Lilith crazy. She needed to do something fun. Anything.

"Hey, I have an idea of what we could do," she said.

"What's that?"

In response, she pulled him into a deep kiss. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, finding his and toying with it, while her hand went exploring down his back until it found its way past the waist of his jeans.

"Whoa," he said, breaking their kiss. "Let's just slow down a second."

She groaned. "I don't want to slow down. We're always slowing down."

"You know—"

"I know! You want to wait until marriage. I don't understand it and I never will. I mean, you're not even religious, for Christ's sake!"

"It's just…how it is."

Lilith threw up her hands. "Don't you want to live life? I mean, today of all days, after seeing what we saw—don't you realize that it can all end in a blink? All it takes is for a psycho killer, or a drunk driver, or, I don't know, a piano falling out of a building, and poof, you're dead. Jesus, Dirk, enjoy life while it's still ours to enjoy."

Dirk didn't respond, but she could see the conflict in his expression, like he couldn't quite formulate an argument. She put a hand on his cheek.

"Look, we don't have to go all the way if you want. But if we can't make it to sex, then maybe we could at least do a little sightseeing along the way."

Before he could protest, she pulled the zipper of his hoodie down. He hadn't put on a shirt underneath, so his bare chest and stomach were revealed. She ran her hands over his smooth skin.

He didn't move to stop her, but he did argue, "It's cold."

"Skin against skin will be warmer," she said, and pulled off her jacket and top, leaving her in just a black bra. She pressed herself against him. "Better, right?"

They began to kiss again, intensifying until Lilith no longer noticed the cold at all. Feeling brave, and that the moment was right, Lilith moved her hand down to the button of Dirk's jeans.

"What was that?" Dirk said, pulling away from her abruptly.

Lilith resisted the urge to strangle her boyfriend. "What now?"

"I saw—I thought I saw a light moving through the trees."

Lilith wanted to tell him to ignore it, that it was probably just the headlights of a car or something, but he was already on his feet.

"Over there, look!" Dirk said.

Lilith looked in the direction he pointed. At first she saw nothing, but then she saw it too—a small blue light making its way through the trees toward them. In a flash, her earlier paranoia came back to her, thinking of Skip Broke's corpse, the symbol on his neck glowing in the light of the space rock. And then, when the light began to elongate in a beam that revealed it to be a flashlight, followed by the footsteps of its lumbering owner, she thought of the murderer who had committed the crime, who might be looking for his next victim.

"What are you kids doing out here?" came a craggy old voice.

The intruder became illuminated by the flashlight as she approached, revealing a long face sharply angled and etched with a network of deep wrinkles, white hair pulled back into a tight bun, hunched body surprisingly agile for so slight a frame. Had Lilith not recognized her, it might have been an even more terrifying sight than an actual serial killer.

"Mrs. Crumplebottom," said Lilith.

The old crone jabbed a gnarled finger at them. "I said, what are you two doing out here? Naked!"

Lilith looked down and became painfully aware that, from the waist up, at least, she was indeed nearly naked. Dirk, too, abashedly restored the zipper of his henley to protect his modesty.

The implication seemed to set in for Mrs. Crumplebottom. "Good lord, are you two…fornicating? In my neighborhood?" Her voice became more shrill with each word.

Lilith looked at Dirk, and he back at her. They could have argued, but it seemed pointless. All at once they ran. Lilith scooped up her shirt and jacket, and they made for their bikes. Mrs. Crumplebottom continued to shout at them, but they rode hard away from the scene until her shouts became nothing but a stream of unintelligible squawking.

At the bottom of the hill where the street straightened and headed in the direction of town, the two teens finally came to a stop. The thrill of their escape subsided and they both burst out laughing.

"You might want to get dressed," said Dirk.

Lilith pulled her shirt back over her head. "See you at school tomorrow?"

"See you then."

They kissed and parted ways. Not until Lilith was almost home did she think to wonder, what the hell was Mrs. Crumplebottom doing wandering around the woods in the middle of the night?


	9. Chapter 9: Daniel

Daniel

LLAMAS FACE DOWN THE QUARKS IN ALL-STAR SHOWDOWN.

Daniel read over the headline again and smiled. He should probably be nervous about the game—there was a lot riding on it—but he wasn't. He'd trained his players well, worked them hard, turned them into a fine-tuned athletic machine. They were ready for this game. He already had his pre-game speech ready, and he was so proud of it, he half expected movie music to swell behind him as he delivered it in the locker room tonight. There would be tears, goddammit.

"Honey, do you mind putting down the paper now?"

His wife's voice deflated him, as usual. Had it always been so grating? He tried to picture the beautiful woman he'd met all those years ago, her silky black hair caught in a breeze as she laughed, vaguely Asian eyes twinkling. She'd been so breathtaking that he left his first wife for her. He tried to imagine this nagging voice of the present emerging from the sweet lips of that carefree girl. No, something changed over the years. Not something…everything.

"Honey, please," Mary Sue repeated. "We're trying to have a family breakfast."

Daniel folded the paper up and put it on the windowsill behind him. Mary Sue frowned at that—she liked everything in its proper place—but Daniel knew she wouldn't push it. She wouldn't want an argument to spoil breakfast. Of course, he couldn't see how it wasn't already spoiled considering the frosty mood around the table. Angela kept shooting him dagger eyes. Her anger at him for the boyfriend ban would not soon blow over, but it was for the best. She'd see that eventually, and she'd be Daddy's Little Girl again. On his other side, Lilith kept yawning as if she hadn't slept. She, too, had probably been up all night pouting, or possibly sacrificing animals, or building bombs, or whatever it was she did in that room of hers. Sometimes he wished she had been born a boy. A boy he'd know how to handle, just like he knew how to handle the guys on his team when they got lazy or snippy or too full of themselves. A teenage girl was different. Angela was more pliable, but Lilith was stubborn as hell. She was much like her mother in that way, though they'd both probably be quite offended if he voiced that observation aloud.

"Aren't these pancakes delicious?" said Mary Sue, making a feeble attempt to engage her prickly family engage in conversation.

Daniel noted the way Mary Sue said it, prideful, as if she'd made the pancakes herself. As if none of them could see the housekeeper, Kaylynn, in the kitchen right behind her scrubbing the pans and bowls she'd dirtied after coming in early to prepare the meal. Kaylynn must have noted Mary Sue's tone as well because Daniel caught her shooting his wife a dirty look.

Daniel smiled. "They're the best pancakes I've ever had."

Mary Sue's eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if trying to read his tone, but then went back to eating. Daniel shot Kaylynn a wink. Credit where credit was due.

"Come on, Angela," said Lilith, rising from the table. "We're going to be late if we don't get going."

"Whoa, whoa," said Daniel. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh, to school, obvi," said Lilith in her snottiest tone.

"Not on your own, you're not. You're grounded, remember. That means no driving the car. You were already banned from driving the car even before yesterday's shenanigans, if I recall."

"Well someone has to take us, then."

"What's wrong with your bikes?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake," said Mary Sue. "I'll take them. I should get to work early anyway. The mayor is making a speech today about beginning construction on a new shopping district downtown. Can you pick them up from school, though."

"That's fine," said Daniel.

"So can we go already?" said Lilith.

"Bye, girls."

Lilith gave him a dismissive wave, and Angela pointedly did not respond or look him in the eye as they left.

Daniel listened as the front door opened and closed, then heard Mary Sue's car start and pull away. He counted to thirty, then headed to the kitchen.

"Those really were the best pancakes I've ever had," he said.

Kaylynn turned away from the dishes in the sink with a playful smile. It was an expression she made that drove him wild. He looked her over hungrily. She had long black hair that fell over shoulders, much like Mary Sue's had back in the day, but Kaylynn's face was longer and smooth with youth. Her skin was a little darker than Mary Sue's, her body more lithe beneath her cute little maid's outfit than Mary Sue's had ever been. More important, there was a tigress lurking behind Kaylynn's green eyes, with a fire Mary Sue had never, not even in her youth, possessed.

"Too bad there's no more," she said with a sly smile, "and yet there's all this syrup."

She took the syrup bottle and dribbled some across her chest. Daniel watched the sugary liquid dripped down into the cleft between her breasts.

"Oops!" she said with a giggle.

"We shouldn't waste that," said Daniel.

In a moment he was on her, licking the syrup from her skin, tracing his tongue from her breasts up her neck. She poured some syrup in her mouth, and he kissed her there, savoring the sweetness of her tongue. It always amazed him how quickly and eagerly she succumbed to his advances, unlike his wife. Frozen sides of beef thawed quicker than Mary Sue.

He had her zipper halfway down when he heard his cell phone go off. It startled him at first, and he jumped away from Kaylynn as if Mary Sue herself had just walked in.

Kaylynn tried to pull him back. "Ignore it," she said.

"I can't. It's the big game tonight. It could be one of my players." He picked up his phone, but when he saw the caller ID, his face drained of color. "H-hello," he said.

The voice that came from the other line was tinny and robotic, obviously being run through a voice modifier. "Big game tonight," it said.

"Hold on a second," said Daniel. Behind him, Kaylynn pouted at being shunted, but he barely noticed her as he fled from the kitchen to his office and locked the door behind him. "What do you want?"

"The Quarks are going to win the game tonight," said the voice.

"No, no, no, you can't do this to me," Daniel pleaded. "My guys have been working so hard. I've been working so hard. This—this is a career-making game for all of us. You can't make me throw it—"

"You're right, I can't make you," said the voice, "but you know what will happen if you don't."

Daniel swallowed. It felt like swallowing a stone.

"I'm begging you," he said.

"The Llamas lose tonight, Daniel Pleasant. You'll see to that," said the voice, "or the truth about you and your family will come out."


End file.
